


Admissions of an Infatuated Man

by helo572



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Affectionate Insults, Complicated Relationships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Light-Hearted, M/M, Multiple Doctors (Doctor Who), No Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-16
Packaged: 2018-05-26 20:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6254524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helo572/pseuds/helo572
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an adventure puts Jamie's life at risk, the second Doctor is looking to ground himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Admissions of an Infatuated Man

**Author's Note:**

> [11:33:01 PM] Lin: DUDE YOUR SIN IS HORRIBLE  
> [11:33:07 PM] Lin: CONGRATULATIONS

“Oh, it appears it has artronic properties... a small containment field, perhaps, which absorbed energy as it fell through time and space, eventually to Earth–” The third Doctor looks up, waiting for Liz's impressed reaction, but the room is empty save himself, the remainder of the TARDIS console and Bessie.

 

He checks the time (which sometimes he finds awfully ironic), and realises Liz went home hours ago.

 

“Just you and me, it would seem,” he addresses the little box perched on the TARDIS console.

 

It's a general piece of space debris, from a derelict ship, probably, but its containment perhaps were kept partially intact as it travelled the universe. There's loosing wiring everywhere, concealing the centre of the hunk of junk, to which the third Doctor is trying to gain entry.

 

“But I suppose that's alright,” he continues, leaning closer to inspect the wiring, “you're going to be helpful with my TARDIS. At least, those are my hopes.”

 

The cube beeps in reply, which normally the third Doctor would see as polite, but derelict pieces of space junk are not supposed to beep. They are supposed to be derelict pieces of space junk, silent and nothing more than a memory to a dead man.

 

“Oh, you sneaky thing,” he reprimands the box. “Have you been lying to me? Here's to think I let you into my TARDIS systems–”

 

The wire that is connecting the cube to the console suddenly sparks, making the third Doctor yelp in surprise. Suddenly, he's glad Liz isn't here.

 

“I'll throw you into a supernova!” he threatens, quickly shutting off the TARDIS systems, of what is presently functional and scanning the piece of un-derelict beeping space junk. “That is, when I _finally_ get my other rude piece of machinery working!”

 

Two hands scrambling across the console, he tries to disable the scanning module, but the controls are unresponsive under his hands.

 

Suddenly, a third hand suddenly cranks all of the dials up to full. The cube beeps at a pitch the third Doctor scarcely perceives, and a little man garbed in a three piece black suit slaps it away from the console. It vibrates on the floor, beeping again, but is silenced by the man's shoe; it crumbles into pieces across the floor.

 

“I knew you were an imbecile,” the third Doctor begins, looking between his ruined salvage and his predecessor, “but not so far to _destroy_ my property! What has gotten into you, now? I knew I spawned from such an _inconsiderate_ man, but never one so utterly damnable!”

 

“Actually, that cube would have been beeping more profanities had I not showed up,” he returns, currently scuffing his shoe on the floor, one hand planted on the console to balance himself. He looks back up at his third self. “It was planning world domination, good man! A dormant, portable computer virus! And you plugged it into the TARDIS!”

 

“A rotting piece of space junk, much like yourself, more like!”

 

“Junk, yes, but only now I've stamped it to death.”

 

“And ever so  _rude_ of you,” the third remarks. “I needed it for... uh... repairs.”

 

“Very minimal traces of artron energy, wouldn't done you much good,” the second answers.

 

The third Doctor crosses his arms, frowning. “And if this cube was such danger to the TARDIS and this planet, why do I not remember this to prevent myself from doing it in the first place?”

 

“ _Well_.” The second Doctor straight, his eyebrows raised as he explains, “You would remember to _not_ plug it in because of experiencing it through my superior eyesight, but my expertise would never be called upon if you don't connect it to the TARDIS in the first place, so you would have never experienced me saving you from a terrible, painful death.” His face contorts smugly, and he added, “Or, perhaps, you would wipe it from my memory?”

 

“Why on earth would I do that?” the third Doctor demands, looking his predecessor up and down, and is about to insult him for not simply saying 'paradox', but the second Doctor beats him too it– he kisses him, firmly, smack on the lips. “Ah,” he says instead, when the second pulls back, watching him with a mix of anticipation and expectancy. “Shan't be too good for our very limited reputation to engage in such acts. Oh, imagine the discourse if this were to get out...”

 

“Exactly why you take to wiping my memory, I presume,” the second returns, almost like a reassurance. “So, shall we get on with it, then? If I'm not to remember this, then you best make it good.”

 

The second Doctor leans forward again, eyes closed, but the third stops him with two fingers to his chest.

 

“And why is it, my good fellow, you take to destroying your own personal property and then shagging yourself?” he asks, eyeing him closely. Naturally, the second Doctor's flicker of expression betrays his story; something has happened, something he is unsure how to cope with. “I see,” the third says, gently. “The Yeti? Ice Warriors?”

 

“Jamie,” the second supplies, averting the third Doctor's gaze. “It seems I entertain the idea of losing him far too often.”

 

Despite how much the third Doctor despises the little man in front of him, he smiles sadly, inquiring, “So, is it my counsel or bed you came here for?”

 

“Perhaps a bit of both.” The junior meets the senior's eyes, his lips pursed, adding, “And, it does good for my ego, to shut you up for a little while.”

 

“At least I can reach the top shelf,” the third replies.

 

The second Doctor kisses him again, and this time, the third sighs against his lips. As infuriating as the smaller man was, he was awfully charming, and his lips were well-trained with all that recorder practice.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading :*)


End file.
